


Loaded Fries and Destiny

by Vexed_Wench



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chef Dean, Community: spn_meanttobe, Cooking, Fluff, Food, M/M, Raised Apart, Shy Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:25:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/pseuds/Vexed_Wench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds inspiration and maybe a new life in a roadside diner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loaded Fries and Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt:  
> 16\. Angel of Smoky Hallow
> 
> Musician Angelica Cannon arrived in Smoky Hollow, battered suitcase and precious violin in tow, to rediscover her passion for music--"not" to fall for the town's most eligible bachelor, Kirk Devon. Kirk's faded jeans and laid-back charm are a million miles away from the sharp-suited businessmen of New York. But his warm chocolate eyes most definitely put the harmony back into her soul!
> 
> City girl Angelica has already fallen for Smoky Hollow's magic--now she's succumbing to Kirk's spell.

Sam was beginning to wonder if he’d imagined the old neon sign for Pop’s as he drove down the Oregon coast on Highway 101. He’d had the misfortune of having not one, but two tires blow out on him. Even if it’d just been one and with his spare in the back he would’ve been at a loss. He'd never bothered to learn the basics of car repairs. He hadn’t needed that particular skill set before. He shouldn’t have needed it now either. He was a fully paid member of the largest auto club in the country. He had even double checked that he would be covered anywhere in the country. He hadn’t counted on his cell phone not working out in the middle of nowhere. He grabbed his wallet and his violin and and locked the car. Setting off on foot, he reminded himself that everything he left in it was replaceable. His knew his violin was replaceable. It had more insurance on it than most people had on their homes and cars combined. Sam loved it like nothing else in his life and would be devastated if it were stolen. It always helped to inspire him when he was stuck on a project.

After he walked a bit down the dark highway, he wished he’d worn his most comfortable sneakers and not the new pair his mom bought him before he’d left. He also wished he’d brought his hoodie. He was surprised that it was cold in the spring. The day had been pleasant, but once the sun set the temperature had begun to drop.

He wanted to sit down and admit defeat when he saw the lights flickering in the distance. He hoped he was close enough to a town that had a decent garage. He hadn't been paying attention while he was driving and really didn't know where he was. He took the first flight that was available to the west coast. He’d landed in Los Angeles and didn't feel like he’d gone far enough. So he rented a car and made his way north. He knew that a lot of people would’ve been happy to have a mini vacation in LA, but he knew just couldn't relax there. It felt too much like work. He had wanted to be as far away from all things that reminded him of work as he could.

He was happy to finally be standing in the front of Pop’s. He wondered what kind of people stopped in a little diner in the middle of nowhere at three thirty in the morning. _One way to find out, he thought_.

He pushed open the heavy wooden door, and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lights after the dark road. The first thing he noticed was how clean and almost homey the place looked. It was nothing like the greasy spoons he’d eaten at when they had taken a family road trip over the summer.

The second thing he noticed was the fry cook standing in front of the grill that sat in plain view of the restaurant. He seemed to be the only person working. Not that Sam would call what he was doing working.

“Hey, Buddy, welcome to Pop’s. I would say sit anywhere, but I would consider it a personal favor if you sat here at the counter,” he said with a wink as he pointed a metal spatula at the counter.

“Sure,” Sam mumbled and grabbed a stool near the end of the counter. There was a huge window beside him. He figured when the sun finally rose he would have a great view. That’s if he was still sitting in Pop’s when that finally happened.

“What can I get you?” the cook asked him.

“Oh, ah...” Sam stammered, looking for a menu. He was too busy staring into the man’s eyes to notice where they kept them. They were the most beautiful green eyes Sam had ever seen.

“How about something easy, like coffee? No wait, I bet you’re more of a cocoa man.” The guy nodded and wandered off. He returned a minute later with a heavy white ceramic mug topped with whipped cream. Sam took a careful sip and smiled at the rich chocolate flavor.

“Damn, you are have dimples,” the guy said.

Sam could feel himself begin to blush. _It wasn't fair_ , he bitterly thought. He was twenty two years old and still blushed like a little kid.

“So what are you doing, walking along the highway at this time of night?” he asked Sam.

“I had a bit of an incident a little ways back.” Sam tried to be as vague as he could. He had the feeling the guy could’ve torn Sam’s car apart and rebuilt it from the bottom up. He doubted his plans would’ve had to be rearranged due to flat tires.

“What happened?” he asked Sam.

Sam got the feeling he was going to be the topic of interest for the night. He should be able to have a simple conversation with a fry cook. All the other people interviewing him knew who he was. He didn’t think the cook had a clue. He knew that most people would recognize his work easier than they would him. Normally, he didn’t mind. Times like this he wished he was a little more recognizable.

“I had the dumb luck to wind up with two flats.” Sam sighed. He wished he had a better story to tell. Maybe one with him saving a puppy or an orphan, or an orphaned puppy. Just something better then tire problems.

“Oh, that happens. Sorry, man, were you heading somewhere important?” he asked Sam as he walked over to the fryer.

“I’m on vacation. I would say a solo road trip, but that would make me sound pathetic.” Sam resisted the urge to bang his head on the counter.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve driven all over the country by myself. Do you think I’m pathetic?” the guy asked over his shoulder.

“Not at all,” Sam mumbled. He thought the only way that guy would ever be known as pathetic was if they had changed the definition of the word when Sam wasn’t looking.  
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” the guy said with a wink and placed a huge plate of what Sam assumed were French fries in front of him.

“Um...thanks.” Sam tried to smile at the plate full of goop in front of him.

“Loaded fries. They always pick me up in the middle of the night. One of the perks of working here,” he said, stabbing at the dish with a fork. Sam tried not to blush when he held the fork to Sam’s mouth.

Sam knew trying not to blush was hopeless at that point. He leaned over and accepted the offered forkful.

“Good huh?” the guy asked.

Sam nodded his agreement, not wanting to speak with his mouthful.

“Most people just cover their fries with chili and cheese. Sometimes they’ll dump bacon on ‘em if you’re lucky. While those are tasty, I thought I could do something better. These are the dinner version. Crispy garlic fries topped with my famous seared meatloaf, and caramelized mushrooms and onions. I cover the whole mess with a horseradish sauce,” he smirked and fed Sam another overflowing forkful.

“So if this is dinner, does that mean there’s a breakfast version?” Sam asked him once he swallowed his bite.

“Yup, if the sun had been up they would have been smothered in chunks of chicken fried steak, scrambled eggs, and sausage gravy,” he explained.

“You’re a genius,” Sam said and grabbed his own fork.

“Thanks, uh...” the guy stammered.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Sam, Sam Fitzgerald,” Sam said as he put his hand out to shake.

“Dean, Dean Winchester. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself and shook Sam’s hand.

“Have you worked here long?” Sam asked him.

“A couple of months. I’m helping out a friend of a friend. What about you? Do you have any plans for you and your solo road trip? Or are you just going where the highway takes you? I’m guessing this is your last big hoorah before college?” Dean asked him.

“I just really needed a break. I’m between projects and wanted another month at least; before someone demands I come back and make their vision a reality. As far as college goes, I took a few courses, but I’m in no rush to go back,” Sam explained. He grabbed his now empty mug and placed it between them.

“So that means you are over eighteen?” Dean asked him as he walked off towards the soda dispenser. “Coke, ok?” he called back as he filled a glass with ice.

“I’m twenty two, so yeah, I am over eighteen. A Coke would be great.” He tried not to grin at the thought of Dean wanting to know more about him, because he was thinking about asking him out on a date even though they had just met.  
“So if you’re not in college and on a break, what do you do?” Dean asked him as he slid the glass in front of Sam.

“I am a composer.” Sam doubted Dean had ever willingly watched anything Sam had written the score for. He mostly did kids movies and overly sweet rom-coms.

“Oh, anything I would’ve seen?” Dean immediately asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I wrote the score for ‘Moonbeams and Monarchs’. The one with the butterflies and pixies trying to be grown up and on their own. The other recent one was ‘Kandy Apple Inc.’ It’s about a bunch of teenage boys turning a home bakery into a multimillion dollar enterprise.” Sam felt conflicted. He was proud of his work; he wouldn't attach his name to anything that he felt was subpar. Though he had to admit that he wished he could tell Dean he had worked on something that Dean would’ve loved.

“Oh, you’re the guy who wrote the music for ‘The Princess and the Snowball.’ That was cute.” Dean grinned at him.

“You watched that?” Sam was shocked. It was an adorable animated movie about a lonely princess who holds a winter ball. The evil prince from the neighboring kingdom turns it into snowball war. After two hours of magical beings and animated household items fighting, they all came together and realized they were friends. Sam knew there were four more parts yet to be made for the franchise.

“To be honest, there might have been some good pain meds and a missing remote control involved in that story.” Dean grinned.

“That’s better than what the last guy said.” Sam laughed at the memory.

“This you got to tell me,” Dean said.

“The guy tried to convince me that he didn't normally watch kids’ movies. That he stumbled across it because he thought it was porn. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince me that he wasn’t a freak and that porn was a better media than what I do. After that, he still thought I would love to just fall into bed with him.” Sam was still annoyed by the encounter.

“That is seriously fucked up.” Dean laughed and went to refill his own coffee mug. “Wasn’t he that douchey asshole,who kept rambling on the about the flying robots bent on world domination? I think I saw something about it on the Hollywood gossip show... ‘Scoops’.”

“Oh, you saw that?” Sam said. He really wanted to bang his head on the counter.

“Like I said the guy seemed douchey. He went on and on about how you had a break down,” Dean said and sat at the stool next to Sam’s.

“To be honest, I kind of did. Not like he said I’m sure. The thing is I am, well was, a child prodigy. Everyone expected great things from at an early age and I’m not complaining. I know I’m lucky and I’m grateful for everything that has happened in my life. The thing is, I don't want to just be the kid working on kids’ movies. I want to do more. I want to write my own piece. I want something where the music is the main part of the story. I want it to be mine,” he tried to explain to Dean.

“Okay, I think I understand. I was in the family business, and being groomed to take over for as long as I can remember. It really is the only thing I’ve ever done, beside the two months I’ve spent here. I wanted to see how the rest of the world lived. So when my buddy needed someone to fill in here, I offered to do it. I got to tell you, it was fun the first week or two, but now I’m ready to get back on the road. Someone else needs to be the one cooking the greasy diner fare,” Dean told him.

“That’s awesome that you can go back.” Sam sighed.

“What do you need to happen so you can go back to work?” Dean asked him.

“I need an idea. Something that will inspire me to write the next big thing, something that will make the assholes I work with take me serious and treat me like an adult. If you had an incredible life story that you were willing to share with me…?” Sam really wished Dean had one.

“Would you believe I spend my time hunting evil sons of supernatural bitches? I have been for as long as I can remember. I can tell you all about hunting things that go bump in the night, in the day, and whenever there’s a full moon,” Dean told him.

Sam was shocked to realize that he believed him.

“How about you let me tag along? Maybe do some on the job research?” Sam thought that no matter what happened, it would give him the inspiration he’d been looking for.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah why not? Don't you have some kind of apprenticeship program? Let me come along on a trial basis, we’ll say six cases. I swear if I fuck up you can send me on my way,” Sam said.

“I must be crazy.” Dean shook his head. “Six cases and if you do anything stupid enough to get you or me killed before that, I will send your ass packing,” Dean stuck his hand out and waited for Sam to shake it.  
“Deal!” Sam barely kept himself from squealing.

“As soon as the day shift guy gets here we’ll go get your stuff and tell the car rental people where they can find it. We have to shag ass up north and deal with a dentist that may have killed the tooth fairy,” Dean said.

“Really? Wow, that would be freaky. My brother Garth is a dentist and I think he would die if the tooth fairy ever popped up in his office.” Sam laughed at the thought.


End file.
